Staffy: That's the way with them that are reared poor, they are the hardest after to humour, striving to bring everything to their own way. But there's a class of people in the world wouldn't do a hand's turn, no more than the bird upon the tree.
Ralph: I wonder you not to give in to us, when all the world knows God formed young people for to be giving aid to elder people, and beyond all to them that are near to them in blood.
Staffy: Look now, Simon, let you be said and led by me. You having no great share of wisdom we are wishful to make a snug man of you and to put you on a right road. Go in now and you will not be kept out of your own profit and your share, and a harbour of plenty beyond all.
Simon: It might be guarded by a serpent in a tree, or by unnatural things would be in the similitude of cats.
Staffy: Ah, that class is done away with this good while.
Ralph: There is no person having sense, but would take means, by hook or by crook, to make his pocket stiff and he to be given his fair chance. It is to save you from starvation we are wishful to do, as much as to bring profit to ourselves.
Staffy: You not to follow our say you will be brought to burn green ferns to boil your victuals, or to devour the berries of the bush.
Simon: I would not wish a head to follow me and leap up on the table and wrestle me, or to drink against me with its gory mouth.
Staffy: You that have not the substance of a crane's marrow, to go shrink from so small a bidding, let you go on the shaughraun or to the workhouse, where you would not take our advice.
Simon: I'll go do your bidding so. I will go bring out the crock.